Rifts Chaos Earth: Dreaming Of A White Christmas
by Degan Veran
Summary: The apocalypse has come. Two days after the world ends a NEMA intel officer is stuck in a cathedral with survivors on Christmas eve as the hordes of the rifts descend upon them.


Rifts: Chaos Earth: Sword Of Damocles

"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas"

Ciro changed the channel on the radio. Apparently someone had a sick sense of humor. Situations like this always seemed to be polarizing: It either brought out the best in humanity or the worst. He risked a quick peak between the slats of the window. Outside the world was blindingly white as small specs of white fell from the sky at an alarmingly fast pace. Ciro sighed. The ground was not white with snow, but with ash. Recent reports have mentioned the Yellowstone super volcano erupting, taking out all of Wyoming and NORAD with it. Ciro quickly calculated the percentage chance that any one of the specs outside were the ashen remains of the president. Even a equation that complicated was not enough to take his mind off the situation. It was December 24th, 2099. It was not only Christmas eve, but it was two days after the world ended.

It was the end of the world as they knew it, and Ciro felt crappy.

It all fell down. There was no gradual decline of civilization, it just ended all at once. Ciro gripped the notepad in his hand tighter, his other hand holding a gold cross and his side arm on the table in front of him. The cross had been a gift from his now dead daughter. It was the only reason he still carried it. He had been at odd's with God for quite a while, he was not even sure if he still believed. It was his first time in church on Christmas day in 17 years. His uniform stuck to his dingy, sweaty body. Ciro was not a tall man, but what he lacked in height he made up for in presence. He was a natural leader, calm and confident in all he did. People looked up to him, giving him their compliance because he always seemed like he knew what he was doing. Only now no one knew what they were doing.

"So, I know I am not a part of the Northern Eagle Military Alliance or anything, but I was wondering if you could tell me whats going on?" The voice came from a small, mousey looking 18 year old female named Anna. She was just one of the survivors clinging to the last bastion of human freedom and safety left in this world: NEMA. "Do you want the truth, or would you rather I sugar coat it?" "The truth." "A large tsunami hit every coastal town in the world. In America Los Vegas is now beach front property and nothing is left of the Eastern seaboard. Typhoons, hurricanes, earthquakes and super volcano's have ravaged whats left. The Midwest was hit the least, so I'm assuming thats where NEMA will set up their base camp." "What about our allies?" "The tsunami hit everyone hard. It is estimated that 75 of the worlds population lives on a coast. It makes sense, seeing as how when people originally settled these places they wanted to be near places to trade or fish." Ciro felt proud. He had gotten into MIT with a full scholarship and, for the first time in the past two day's, it was paying off.

"Canada is still reeling. Their population was never very large anyway. Mexico is mostly coast. What isn't underwater is being ravaged by earthquakes so stong we cannot even measure them." She sat down. "What about everyone else?" "The stories the same everywhere. Floods, hurricane's, volcano's, earthquakes, the works." She looked down. "Do you know . . . how many are dead?" "Over 60 and rising daily." Ciro absentmindedly looked out of the spaces between the boards on the stained glass window with a picture of Jesus on the cross, his eyes seemingly staring ahead as if he, too, could not fathom what was happening. Outside blue lines of energy dances above the fire, the same blue lines that came right before the end. whether they were a cause or a result was unknown.

"Are there still reports of the . . . the things?" She kept her head down and her teeth clenched, bracing for every answer as if it was a shot to the heart. "Yes, all over the world reports of demon, zombies, vampires and aliens are coming through. Probably mass hysteria. Human beings always want to quantify why something bad happens. It needs some reason other then the randomness of life." "Am I . . . are we . . . going to die?" "Of course." Ciro said, lighting up a cigarette. "But not anytime soon, not on my watch." Taking a drag he exhaled. The cathedral was deathly quiet, while outside hell raged. Screams, plea's, gunshots and . . . yes, even laughter were heard in a macbre soundtrack of the apocalypse. It was getting closer.

A crash against the door stopped all conversation. All was quiet, as another crash came, and then another. Inhuman growls came from underneath the sealed door way. "What is that!" Anna exclaimed. "Nothing good." Ciro responded, dead pan. He pointed his nose to the gun. "Take it and get these guys out of here." "What! Where are we supposed to go? How are we supposed to get there?" "Theres a catacomb beneath the cathedral. The catacomb will likely link up with a sewer tunnel or other way out." The second time in two days his MIT education had come in helpful. "But, where will we go?" The crashes came quicker now, and harder. The door was beginning to rattle. "Head towards the Midwest. Theres talk of Chicago being a likely spot as a base of operations for NEMA midwest. Now GO!" "Aren't you coming with us?" "Can't. But do me a favor." Ciro said, handing her the clipboard. "Its important that NEMA high command gets this. Its my notes from the past two days. Now go." The survivors got up, some carried, some limping, others with dilated pupil's, and left towards the catacombs. Taking a long drag from his cigarette he savored the smoke, kicking back in his chair. In one hand he held his cross, in the other a light high explosive grenade. "I'll meet you soon." He said, clutching the cross. The door way fell. Light poured in as something stalked in. It was tall, vaguely human size and shape, but with inhuman fangs and beady, red eyes. It hissed at him when it saw him, more and more of the things entering in through the breach. They stalked around him, encircling him. "Merry Christmas."

--

Inside the tunnel the brave Anna led the way, in one hand the side arm with its flashlight on and the other the notebook. A loud thump was heard as the earth above them shook loose and lightly coated them with soil. "So Anna . . . where are we going to go?" "East." She said. "Are we going to die?" "Of course." She said, pausing. "But not now. Not now."


End file.
